The Burning (35 page)

She would probably only want him to serve her once. After that, she would likely be sore from having her membrane broken. He only hoped she didn’t lose all taste for the act. She was so tiny. He bent to her breast. She would be sensitive now. Only his tongue should be used on her breasts the second time, not his fingers. As he kissed her nipples, she ran her hands over his back and his shoulders as though she couldn’t get enough of him. He tried to imagine what it was like never to have experienced intimacy of any kind.

Now her hands were exploring other parts of his body. She ran one down over his hip and around to stroke his buttocks. Then she put it between his thighs. She wanted to explore his genitals. He smiled as she scooted down so she could reach better. That put her mouth at his chest and she licked at his nipple, then sucked. She was intuitive, eager. He opened his thighs to her. Let her be in control here. That would reassure her. She cupped his balls. They were a handful for her small hand. She squeezed ever so gently and rubbed the stones inside his sac against each other. He swallowed. How did she know he liked that? After a moment, she caressed his shaft. The feel of her hand around him made him shudder. With her thumb she flicked the moisture at the tip of his cock over its head. God, woman! Tentatively, she moved her hand up
and down the shaft. When he could not suppress a moan, she grew surer. How different from the curt demands of the Daughters!

“I want to be on top,” she breathed. “Do you mind?”

All he could do was shake his head. He loved to have a woman where he could see her. He wouldn’t let those endless nights when the Daughters rode him spoil this for Ann. He wanted to do this for her. He scooted under her and she straddled his loins. That opened her moist parts over the shaft of his cock. She rocked back and forth as though she knew exactly the way to drive him to madness. He closed his eyes once and considered chanting. But he could not keep them closed for long. In the gloom of the twilight room, she seemed to glow. Her eyes were luminous. Her slight figure, her heavy breasts hanging so delectably above him, made him quiver. All the while, she continued moving back and forth, sliding her slick parts along the shaft of his cock. She leaned back and lifted her hair off her back. Her breasts rose. Their nipples were pinched and taut. Her ribs showed over her smooth belly. Still rocking, she leaned over him, hands splayed on his chest, and bared her neck.

“Do you want blood? I give it freely.” Her eyes were big, her voice throaty.

He shook his head and put both hands on her waist. “You have something else I want.”

He lifted her. She knelt up. He took his own cock and tilted it, found her opening with his finger and left the head of his cock just at her entrance. “Now you control the pace. If we go slowly, you will open.”

She nodded, smiling, and allowed him to settle her a little. He lifted her. She was so slight. He settled her a little more. She looked surprised, then pleased. She lifted herself and settled more. Up and down now. Soon she would come to the barrier of the hymen. Would she lose her nerve? He felt his cock press against it once, twice. She smiled at him
and pushed herself down. A little gasp and a look of surprise was the only indication that her maidenhead was broken. He was inside her. He gathered her to him, and rolled over on top of her. She spread her thighs even wider. He braced himself to keep his weight off her. He slid in and out, shallowly and carefully, once, twice.

“Does that hurt?” he whispered. “I can stop, if you like.”

“I want to feel you in me.” She arched herself up, pressing her mound against him as he filled her fully for the first time. His hips moved of their own accord. He changed the angle to give her more pleasure. She moaned and his own sensation ramped up.
Tuatha, denon, reheldra, sithfren
. He began the mental chant, just to take no chances.

In and out. She began to writhe under him. She drew him down to kiss her, darting her tongue inside his mouth fearlessly. Without warning, she threw her legs around his loins and clamped him to her, rocking in counterpoint, taking him even deeper inside her. Then she let go, and he came out. His cock trembled above her.

“More,” she whispered frantically. “More.”

He thrust inside her, increasing the speed of his pumping to match her growing pleasure. She would come soon, he was sure of it.
Sithfren, hondrelo, frondura, denai
. He had control. She contracted around him with a moan of pleasure. The muscles of her womb milked at his cock.

And without warning, he exploded. His balls pushed a forceful stream of steaming juice out his cock. The world contracted into a single, blinding sensation.

No! He tried to pull out, late as it was. He could feel his semen spurting inside her. But she clamped her legs around his buttocks and clung to him as they came together.

“God, Ann!” She let him go and fell back limply to the bed. Was she conscious? Had he killed her? His hateful cock still spurted tiny droplets. It had been so long since he had come. He should never have risked it, risked her. “Ann!”

She opened one eye and a slow smile spread across her face. “Is it possible to have so much pleasure and not be mad?”

“Ann, are you all right?” He lifted her with one arm, cradling her against his chest, slipping his other hand around her head, rubbing one thumb over her cheek. “Tell me you’re all right!”

“I’m fine,” she said, nestling into his chest. “A little sleepy. Is that normal?”

He sighed. “Yes. That’s normal.”

“Can we rest a moment before we do it again?”

“Again?”

“Oh.” She looked stricken. “Perhaps you only care to do it once? Or maybe once is all that’s possible now that you’ve—”

“Shush.” He put a finger to her lips. “I’m sure you can have more of the same if you like in a few minutes. Or several times. If you get sore, I can pleasure you with my tongue.” To hell with Kilkenny. If he was here tonight, he would be there again tomorrow night. Was he not stalking Stephan even as Stephan was stalking him?

She thought a moment, looking at him. Her eyes were incredibly soft. “I might like that.”

He clutched her to him. She was so precious. And he had endangered her tonight. “Why are you not mad?” he asked himself, not her. “After what I did . . .”

“What we did.” There was a silence. “Remember Rubius said the magic worked by turning whatever energy the object had back on itself? He said Stancie had always been a little crazy, so she went crazier.” She looked up at him. “I guess I wasn’t crazy. Surprising, really.”

“Then what was turned back upon you?” he asked, afraid to know.

She looked about to speak then thought better of it. “Someday I’ll tell you.”

He gripped her tightly and rocked. He had to go soon. But not just yet. They had a few hours. “Was it painful for you?” She hadn’t seemed in pain.

“Not really,” she said, surprised. “Should it have been?”

“Perhaps your membrane was already torn a bit. It happens with active women.” He smiled down at her. “You seem to be forever climbing over rocks and such in the Gorge.”

“Then I’m glad.”

He had never known a woman so intuitive about pleasing a man.

Let alone a virgin. The thought crashed in on him.

“You don’t think I was a virgin, do you?” She said it quietly. Was he so transparent?

But Ann could never have touched another man long enough to lose her virginity.

“Of course you are. Were. It’s just that you did exactly what I like most. I . . .”

She smiled. She didn’t need to say anything.

She knew him that well? He breathed and held her head against his shoulder.

He felt himself rising again. She must feel it, too. He shook himself mentally. Time enough for death and atonement. These hours should belong to Ann.

It was nearly dawn. Ann lay cradled in his arms, her white-blonde hair spread over his darker, coarser flesh. He watched her sleep, at peace with the intimacy of touching a man, naked body to naked body. They had done everything tonight. He had given her all of himself. She had come to orgasm again and again. As had he. She knew every secret desire and she had filled them, driving him to distraction time and again. She’d lifted her breasts to tongue her own nipples and used her hands on his cock. And she seemed to
get pleasure from doing it. He had never felt that a woman was so much inside his mind.

It was almost frightening.

No, it was a gift. A gift he could not deserve until he had atoned.

Which meant he must leave her. He had never wanted so to shirk his duty.

And with that, he realized that if he did not leave her now, before dawn, he might never leave at all. He had his duty. His duty might have shown up at Bucklands Lodge tonight. The emotion he had spent—was still spending this night—and the sexual energy he had spent in all those orgasms would weaken him for the task ahead. He was never adequate to this task. Now, he must be even less so. To stay with her, pleasuring her night after night, was all he wanted, and it was all he could not indulge. He must leave her, and trust that she would use his letters to escape Van Helsing and the town.

“Ann,” he whispered.

She turned in his arms like a sleepy kitten. “Stephan?” Her eyelids fluttered.

“I must leave, my love. If I don’t go now . . .” His voice cracked.

She reached up to kiss his throat, suddenly very awake. “In all the . . . the chaos of today I forgot to tell you. I saw some of Kilkenny’s followers at the tavern.”

“At the tavern so openly?” He thought a moment. “Are you sure? How did you know?”

“Their scent. Unless cinnamon and ambergris has become a fashionable perfume. That and a certain electric expectancy in the air around them. Like how I feel around you.”

“So.” That meant it was tonight.

“I should tell you. They were women.”

Women? He blinked once. They were not followers of Kilkenny. Ann had seen the Daughters. He felt his shoulders sag, weighted by their certainty of his failure. He wouldn’t tell Ann who they were. Or why they were here.

“Go. I’ll wait for you.” She said it softly. He could see in her eyes she knew it might be useless. He treasured the fact that she said it anyway.

“Use your strength of character against him, Ann. Leave now, for London. Before your cousin returns.” Would she? “I can’t go unless you promise. I can’t leave you here to him.”

“I promise. Go and fulfill your destiny.” Her eyes were soft, and full of tears.

He rose and pulled the coverlet up over her perfect, sensual nakedness. She would go. He must believe that. In London, she would learn to trust another man. She would touch him, and touching would make love possible for her. He felt a pang of emotion. Jealousy? But better that she find love in her life than be tangled with the likes of the Harrier. He picked up his clothing, but he did not dress. He liked to think he had given her the possibility of love. It was with him that she had found the way around her wonderful, awful gift. It was so little to give in return for what she had given him. Acceptance. Understanding. What woman, human or vampire, had ever shown him that? She was courageous. So much more courageous than she knew.

“You will be all right, Ann. You are strong. You just don’t know your strength.” He did. “You see the good in people. Even people like Jemmy Minks. You sort through the detritus of their souls and find the worth there. Use your strength.” He drew the power. His throat closed on any more words. He was for Kilkenny, and he knew how that was likely to end. And if he won through, by some miracle, then he was for Mirso.

Either way, he would never see her again.

Eighteen

Ann watched the whirling darkness evaporate into the predawn dimness. Already the birds were chattering outside her windows. The room was empty, emptier than it had ever been. Stephan was gone, to engage in the fight of his life. A fight he believed he would lose.

Her insides felt like sodden earth, cold and heavy. She loved Stephan Sincai, and when he had reached his own climax this night, he had turned her love back upon herself, so she loved him twice as much as before; so much it was painful. That was what she couldn’t tell him, not until he had completed his mission, for better or worse. She could never burden him with the guilt of having to choose between her love and what he thought of as his destiny. He would not be whole if he abandoned his task. And if he chose her over refuge? He would grow bitter, thinking about what he had lost. No one could build a future on that.